


Wrong Question

by sharpgrin



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Fatal Vore, M/M, Vore, flagrant misuse of parley parlor magic, unwilling vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 16:22:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12634755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharpgrin/pseuds/sharpgrin
Summary: John finds a much more satisfying way to kill Merle at the end of their parleys.





	Wrong Question

“You seem distracted today.”

John glanced up from the chess board.

“Do I?”

“Yeah. That’s the third shitty move you’ve made in a row,” Merle said, and knocked one of his rooks off the board. “What’s on your mind?”

“Is that your question?”

Merle sighed.

“Does every casual thing I ask you have to be the question of the day?”

“In this case, yes. This thought is an odd one and probably not one that you would like to hear, I’m guessing, but I’ll tell you if you insist on it.”

“You’ve got me curious now, so yeah, I’ll blow my question on this.”

John tapped his fingers on the table, considering.

"There’s really no better way to phrase this, so I’ll just come right out with it: I want you inside of me."

Merle blinked in astonishment.

"You mean, you want me to fuck you?"

John laughed.

"No, I mean that quite literally. I want all of you inside me. As in, your whole body. As in, I would very much like to eat you."

“Oh.”

Brilliant colors glimmered behind John's dark irises. Merle shivered. It was easy to forget that he wasn't human anymore. It made sense that his desires would be alien to him.

"I've been chasing you for several decades with no success, and not having you inside of me is getting unbearable. I've consumed the better part of the multiverse, but I still have no idea what you taste like. What it's like to digest you, to make you part of me."

Merle squirmed under John’s intense gaze. He was starting to really wish that he had just wanted to fuck him.

"Well, uh, better luck with that next time. Maybe we'll slip up and you'll catch us. You never know! I'd better be going, though, so go ahead and blast me with that fire."

John sized him up.

"You know, I don't have to kill you like that. We could try a different method this time."

Merle muttered a short prayer under his breath.

"And what method is that?"

John's form went dark, and his shape became distorted, and it writhed, and he grew and changed, and then the color drained away until he was simply a much larger version of himself—except for the eyes, which remained completely black opal.

"I think that I've found another way to satisfy my needs."

Oh, hell.

"Can't you be patient? Won't it be more satisfying if you don't let yourself have a taste before the, uh, main event?"

“I’m sorry, Merle, but once I’ve got an idea in my head I find it impossible to shake. Aren’t you tired of dying that other way, anyhow?”

“Nope. That was fine by me. Being painfully burnt to death is normal for me at this point.”

John grinned at that, revealing a row of sharp teeth. Merle stood up abruptly, but before he could run John grabbed him and held him up to his face. His tongue darted over his lips as he looked Merle over.

“Do you have a preference?”

“A preference for _what_?”

“Feet first or head first?”

“Neither!” Merle writhed in his grasp. “Stop fooling around and put me down.”

“Feet first it is, then,” said John, and slid him into his mouth.

John’s tongue lapped around him, tasting him all over and completely soaking him with saliva.

_Okay, I can deal with this, maybe he’ll spit me out and say it was just a joke and—_

John swallowed.

Merle was squished and squeezed as he went down John’s throat, and it was useless to resist; the wet walls of his throat were tight around him, almost suffocating him, and they pinned his arms to his sides.

There wasn’t much more room to move in his stomach. It stretched slightly when Merle entered it, but he was an almost perfect fit. He hugged his knees and listened closely, trying to see if he could figure out what John was doing outside, but he couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his pulse and various gurgling noises.

John stroked his stomach and sighed.

“I thought that you would be more filling. I’ll have to try a different size ratio next time.”

“Fuck off,” Merle muttered, and writhed against the walls of his stomach, trying to see if he could adjust his position and find a way out.

John moaned. Merle froze.

“That was a moan of pain, right?”

“No, Merle, that felt exquisite. Can you do it again?”

Merle went back to his fetal position and tried to stay still. Damn, it was hot in here. He would have been covered in sweat if he wasn’t already covered in saliva and mucus. Where was the stomach acid, by the way?

John continued rubbing his stomach in gentle circles. The walls of it tightened and pain shot through Merle’s lungs. Whatever he was breathing in here, it was starting to run out. John’s body shifted. There was a creak as he sat down in a chair.

“As much as I would love to savor this, I can’t stick around. It’s time for part two of our experiment.”

“And what is that?”

“Digestion.”

The stomach walls contracted even more. Merle pushed against them, but there wasn’t any give this time, and there was something else now—something that he at first recognized as a liquid and then as fire. It was stomach acid, burning him.

*

Six concerned faces turned to look at him.

“What did you learn this time?” Lucretia said. Her journal was already open, and her pen was poised to take notes.

"John is really goddamn weird, but we already knew that, so...nothing. I'm gonna go shower. I feel like I'm still covered in saliva."

"Covered in _what_?”

"Don't even worry about it."

*

It was the next parley.

John looked at him with perfect calm, like nothing unusual had happened last time.

Merle crossed his arms and glared.

"Are you satisfied now?"

"No. I think I'm even less satisfied, actually, but don't worry about that for the moment. Tell me your question."

Merle sweated beneath his ravenous gaze and tried to think of a _very_ long question.

**Author's Note:**

> Lucretia has the word “saliva” written in her journal with a big question mark. It’s an unsolved mystery that haunts her to this day.


End file.
